Love struck, Aurora decides to move to Thailand and live with her dream man, Chase. However, her haste to be with Chase puts her on an adventures path to a different country when she takes the wrong bus.

Laura And the God Code

Chapter 1

Pontifical Swiss Guard Markus Fuhriman, swallowed hard where he stood alert outside the Pope’s personal chambers. His pulse quickened with every echo of the running footsteps in the white tiled corridors as they neared him. His hazel eyes narrowed as he lined the sights up at the corner of the end of the hallway. The Glock 9mm pistol perfectly balanced in his trained hands. Next to him, Alex kneeled on one knee as he took aim. They were the last line of defense to the Pope.
A bead of sweat ran down Markus’s right temple as adrenaline rushed through his blood. Few people could come down here, and all knew better than to run towards the Pope’s chambers. Who is it? Was the tip of an attempt on the Pope’s live real? Is this it? Markus took a deep breath; the footsteps were almost at the corner. A cold chill ran up his spine and he shivered. Is today the day I give my life in service to the Pope? Markus’s heart thumbed against his chest. Just breathe and keep shooting. Markus took a deep breath, then held it. The footsteps were close. Now. Quick, shoot. Markus’s heart leaped and his finger twitched on the trigger as a figured raced around the corner, directly at him.
Markus’s pistol sights lined up perfectly between the eyes of the round, red face that bobbed from side to side on the 5 foot 6 stocky frame as it came out of breath at him. Slowly, Markus’s muscles relaxed as his mind identified Philipp Girtman, the Pope’s personal assistant. Idiot, why did he need to run and scare me like that? His hand shook gently as he holstered his pistol.
“Open the door.” Philipp yelled breathlessly before he was even halfway down the hallway. Sweat streamed down his face in evidence to his body’s unfit state. Dutifully, Markus spun around on his heels and faced the touch sensitive, digital security panel next to the door. A beep confirmed his security code, while an outline of a hand appeared on the blue screen. Markus leaned forward, and allowed the retina scanner to blind his right eye, while the palm scanner confirmed the small valleys and folds of his right hand.
“Access granted.” The electronic voice reminded Markus of his ex-girlfriend, and an uncomfortable chill ran up his spine that shook his shoulders for a second. She was the most attractive stalker and psycho he had ever met. She was a year into her sentence, for setting his car on fire when he had to work late and missed her birthday party. What had intrigued the Judge more, was that she for good measure to stress her disapproval of being neglected, offloaded a clip of .380 rounds from her Ruger Pistol, through the porch window at him and the police, when they went to her house about his car the next day.
The door lock disengaged with a click, and brought Markus’s thoughts to the present. Slowly he leaned forward to open the door. Pain filled his shoulder as he crashed into the wall when Philipp bumped him out of the way and grabbed the door handle. Angrily Philipp flung the door open.
“You are useless and slow.” Philipp yelled as he barged through the doorway.
“Prick.” Markus’s lips responded without permission from his mind when the door closed. Markus bit his lip and looked down to avoid Alex’s eyes as he rubbed his shoulder. Did I just swear out loud in the Vatican?
“A very accurate assessment, and boldly spoken.” Alex commented in his normal matter-of-fact voice, and then took a deep breath before he continued. “Regardless of his manners, the urgency of his message must be extreme. For that is all that could get him to attempt in moving his body past crawling speed, and to disturb the Pope while he recuperated.”
Markus pressed his lips together to stop him from doubling up in laughter at Alex’s statement, given in a way only Alex could. However, Alex was right, only the three of them could access the Pope’s chambers while he rested, and it was not done unless the situation required the Pope’s immediate attention.
“Do you think it has something to do with the possible attempt on the pope’s life?” Markus wondered.
“No.”
Markus’s narrowed eyes, stressed the fact that Alex’s short answer required explanation.
“There is always the threat of an attempt on the Pope’s life. And Philipp would not stress his heart unless he was actually shot at.”
“Then I hope he is in trouble.” Markus whispered to himself. Silently, they resumed their duties of protecting the Pope. A duty that rested on the Papal Swiss Guard’s shoulders from 1506, when the force was created.
Inside the room, Philipp stopped and leaned on a massive mahogany study desk, where a small lamp stood as sole guard against the darkness. Philipp wheezed as he tried to catch his breath, and shot a glance at the drawn, thick, light brown velvet curtains behind the desk. Maybe the morning sun’s rays will brighten up this place and calm my nerves. Panic clawed at Philipp’s mind as his throat closed off and his breathing worsened. Quickly his right hand slipped into his pocket, while he wiped the sweat from his face with his left forearm.
Philipp ignored the guest chair by his side, and stumbled to the black leather couch against the wall that was only used by personal friends of the Pope. Exhausted, Philipp dropped his body onto the couch as his lips sealed around the asthma pump’s opening. One, two puffs, Philipp inhaled deeply. Darn asthma, what did I do to deserve this? His eyes rested on the large cherry wood bookcase that spanned the entire wall across from him. Philipp managed a weak smile. I know exactly which church history book to pull to open the secret door behind the bookcase. Philipp looked at the beige leather folder in his left hand. The knowledge contained inside the folder, was even more secret than the emergency escape tunnel behind the bookcase.
Slowly Philipp stood up and turned to the door next to the couch that led to the Pope’s bedroom. Philipp did not bother to shatter the silence by a knock; it would serve no purpose on the door. For a moment his eyes glanced over the paintings on the wall in front of him. The heavy bombproof, wood lined steel door resisted Philipp as he swung it open, while the lamp on the study desk fought the new onslaught of darkness. A thick red and gold, hand crafted Artsakh carpet, inlaid with the Pope’s personal seal, silenced Philipp’s footsteps.
The bed lamp on the night stand next to the Pope joined the fight against the darkness and bathed Pope John Paul XX in a soft orange light. The Pope’s breathing was rhythmic and slow where he peacefully slept in his custom-made oak and redwood bed, under white satin sheets. Plans for his speedy demise hinged on his blind trust in the people that served and protected him. Philipp pushed a button on the night stand, and slowly curtains across from the bed, identical to the ones in the office, opened and let the light in as the east wing of the garden came into view.
Philipp’s hand rested gently on the Pope’s shoulder as the Pope’s name flowed softly over his lips. Pope John Paul XX squinted for a moment until his eyes adjusted to the light. A knot formed in his stomach as the figure in front of him came into view. The Pope’s eyebrows narrowed as stress lines formed on his brow.
“What is wrong Philipp?” Pope John Paul XX sat upright and leaned his back against the headboard.
“Victor surfaced. He made contact an hour ago.” The Pope’s eyes widened while his pulse quickened, fear gnawed at his strained nerves.
“Are the rumors true? Did he find the scrolls?”
“Yes, Your Holiness.”
“What are his intentions?”
“He is asking ten million dollars for them. Delivered personally by you, Your Holiness.” Philipp lied.
“Why would he do that? It is not like Victor.”
“He is now traveling with this girl. She is the rogue spy I told you about. She has corrupted him.” Philipp opened the folder in his hand, and then handed pictures of Laura and Victor to the Pope. The Pope studied the information compiled on Laura for a moment. A petit, stunning 25-year-old woman, with long curly red hair and green eyes, stared back at him from the photos.
“Laura Electa Valencia.” Softly flowed over the Pope’s lips as he read the name under a photo. He took a deep breath, and then laid the folder down before he spoke.
“Well, at least Victor is not selling the scrolls to someone else.” Sadness twisted in his voice and he sighed as he ran his fingers over a picture of Victor. Pope John Paul XX looked up and studied Philipp for a moment. Philipp smiled casually back; however, inside he cringed under the Pope’s stare.
“I know him for a long time Philipp.”
For a moment neither spoke, then the Pope asked. “When are we making the exchange?”
“We are not. His own agency is hunting him now.”
“What? Why?” The Pope’s mouth hung as he stared at Philipp.
“We believe the sale of the scrolls is a ploy to get close to you. And that he is the one that will make the attempt on your life.” Philipp’s lies were poison to the Pope’s heart. The Pope’s face went white, and slowly he brought his frail shaking hands to his mouth. For a moment he sat in silence as he gently shook his head in disbelieve. Slowly the Pope took a deep breath, and then looked directly at Philipp.
“Arrange for a meeting with Victor.”
“Your Holiness? Are…” The Pope’s raised hand stopped Philipp mid-sentence.
“For a person in the service of the church, you have little faith. I trust in Victor and not these farfetched allegations. If he wanted me dead, no one would stop him and he would not need a ploy like this to get close to me. Find him and arrange a meeting.”
Philipp clenched his jaw as he held back his anger. Things were not going as he had planned.
“Very well, Your Holiness.” Slowly Philipp turned and walked to the door, while fire burned in his eyes.
“Philipp.” Pope John Paul XX’s voice stopped Philipp in the doorway, yet he did not turn around.
“Do not do anything stupid like sending people after him. If you do, you will find far more than you can ever imagine. The scrolls are worth far more than what he is asking for; if it is even true that he is selling them.”
Philipp bit his lip as he slowly nodded, and then exited the room. As he closed the door behind him, he clenched his jaw and balled his fists. I should have said 20 million. Philipp took a deep breath, shook his shoulders, and then took out his smart phone. He smiled as his thumb glided over the touch screen.
“Yes?” The cold and unemotional voice wiped the smile from Philipp’s face. The hairs at the back of his neck stood up, and he coughed uneasily. Why does she intimidate me so much?
“Go ahead as planned, eliminate Victor. Bring the scrolls to me, and no one else, understood?” Philipp nervously glanced over his shoulder towards the Pope’s bedroom door as he spoke.
“Consider it done.”
“Call me the moment you have the scrolls.” Philipp ended the call. An evil grin formed on his face as he looked at the Pope’s chair behind the study desk. Soon, I will sit there, and Victor will be blamed for the Pope’s assassination.

At a corner table in a small out of the way pizzeria, called Santa Anna in Cusco, Peru. Laura placed her cell phone down on the small round table just as Victor stopped next to her. The aroma of fresh mint tea tingled her nose as he placed the cups down. His perfectly sculpted muscles flexed as he sat down.
“That was a short conversation?” Victor’s piercing blue eyes mockingly questioned Laura.
“Don’t patronize me. We haven’t spoken in a month. And it was only 45 minutes.” Laura laughed.
“45 minutes, my point exactly.” Victor’s comment drew pressed lips and narrowed brows with a ‘watch it’ look in her green eyes from Laura that made him chuckle.
“What did your friend say?” Victor took a sip of his tea while he waited for the answer.
“Suzy was very upset with me for not contacting her directly after the sinking of the cruise ship. She did, however appreciate the postcard Manco send for me, informing her I was ok. When I told her that I could not phone her since I have met a man who took me on a trip to Mexico on his friend’s boat and then flew me to Peru to spend time in the jungle, she forgave me.” Laura took a sip of her tea, and then smiled as she continued. “Apparently I should have gone on a cruise long ago.”
Their eyes flirted for a moment. She and Victor were having lunch while soft Peru flute music created a relaxing atmosphere. The smell of spices and freshly baked pizzas assaulted Laura’s senses. Laura studied Victor for a moment. He had his back to the wall and studied everyone that entered the place, something she had accepted. His shirt strained against his muscles that could easily win him a place as an ancient Greek Spartan warrior.
“What are we going to do Victor?”
Victor let Laura’s question float around for a while before he answered.
“First, we need to safely hide the scrolls. Then I have to find out who wants us dead, and why.”
“Your ex agency said they wanted the scrolls. Do you think the Vatican wants us dead?”
“I highly doubt the Vatican wants us out of the way Laura. I more think our problems are because someone else is under the impression we found out something we shouldn’t have.”
Victor watched Laura as she thoughtfully dug into her salad. Her long curly red hair flowed over her petit shoulders. Lovingly he slowly reached out to touch her hand, and then stopped. His muscles tensed up while he tried to hide his concern. His eyes narrowed and intently studied a shape, American, mid-thirties couple that stopped outside the cafeteria and scanned the people inside though the glass windows. After a few moments they casually made for the door.
The doorbell’s cling, made Laura look in its direction, then back at Victor. The blood drained from her body and icy shivers ran up her spine. Victor’s eyes were cold and focused, as he noted every tiny detail of the couple. Laura swallowed. This was not his usual way of scanning people.
“You know them?” Laura’s soft voice slightly wavered. Victor remained motionless and silent until the couple took a place two table from them, near the door.
“I cannot recall their faces Laura. But something about the arrogance and self-assuredness in the man’s moves seems familiar.” Slowly Victor slid his hands into his pocket.
“Laura, can you please settle the bill.”
Laura’s eyes widened and her mouth went dry when Victor slid cash over the table to her as he stood up.
“What are you going to do Victor?”
“Ask him why he is here?”
Two tables from them, Noel froze. His brown eyes analyzed every minute detail of Victor as Victor stood up and turned to walk to the restrooms. Gently Noel leaned closer to Sally.
“Stay here.”
“But...”
“Sally, Victor is mine.”
Not waiting for a response from Sally, Noel stood up and followed Victor, who was almost at the restroom door. Unnoticed, Victor swiped a plastic squeeze bottle of vinegar from a table just before he entered the restroom. Lavender aroma filled his lungs as he opened the squeaking door. Victor quickly passed the two basins and four urinals on the left wall, to the last cubical on the right wall. His heart raced slightly as he pushed the cubicle door open and entered. Steel greeted his hand as he unbuckled his belt and slid it out. His back to the open door, Victor placed the belt on the toilet bowl, and then smiled. The polished, large metal buckle served well as a mirror.
Victor’s muscles tensed when the restroom door squeaked. He swallowed hard, then gently began to whistle, while he aimed the vinegar bottle at the toilet and squeezed.
The restroom door slowly closed behind Noel as he scanned the empty restroom. Whistling, mixed with fluid splashing in a toilet, made him smile. Slowly he pulled a 4 inch double edged titanium knife, from under his shirt behind his back. He took a deep breath as he inspected the blade. His pulse quickened as he thought of all the people’s blood the blade had tasted, and of the master’s blood it would soon taste. Noel’s eyes narrowed as he fixed his gaze on the last cubical, while he slowly tiptoed towards it. His heart jumped when he saw Victor, back turned and unaware of the danger. An evil smile graced Noel’s lips. Victor did not recognize me when I entered the pizzeria, even though he had trained me. Noel touched his face where a bullet two years prier shattered most of his jaw. The plastic reconstructive surgery came in handy at times.
Noel’s pulse increased as he lifted the knife and crept up on Victor. A legend with a knife deserves to die by one. Noel’s breathing was rapid as a bead of sweat ran down his temple. Today I become a legend myself. Noel’s eyes narrowed, and his senses heightened. This will be quick. Left arm around Victor’s neck, then three quick stabs in Victor’s heart, just like the 10 others before Victor.
Noel’s muscles exploded. His left arm muscles bulged as he took Victor in a strangle hold. Noel’s knife sliced through the air, hungry for Victor’s blood. He jerked when Victor’s right hand blocked his, the knife an inch from its target. No, it cannot be. Fear choked Noel as searing pain burned his eyes while the smell of vinegar filled his nose. Noel gasped as his feet lifted off the ground when Victor bent down and threw him forward.
Pain filled Noel’s head as he landed headfirst into the toilet. Dread choked Noel as he gulped vinegar and toilet water instead of air. His heart trashed in his chest. Stabbing pain shot up in his neck from his body’s weight on it as Victor pressed Noel’s body against the toilet’s back wall. Panic clawed at Noel’s mind as death loomed over him. Desperately, he tried to push himself up by grabbing the side of the toilet. Twice his hands slipped off the wet rim. His arm muscles strained when he got a grip. Noel gasped as he managed to lift his mouth out of the water. His heart leaped as he filled his lungs with fresh air.
Searing pain filled Noel’s lungs as Victor drove his knee mercilessly into Noel’s ribs and forced the life from his lungs. Noel gagged as his lungs tasted water again. His arm’s shook as he strained to clear his mouth while his legs kicked wildly under Victor’s shoulder.
Crack.
A thousand fire ants gnawed at Noels elbow when Victor’s foot snapped it. Water muffled Noel’s scream when bone tore through flesh as his snapped elbow gave under his weight. Noels lungs burned, and his diaphragm bounced. Tears mixed with toilet water as Noel involuntarily breathed. Vinegar burned his throat while water filled his lungs.
Victor’s heart thumbed wildly as he held Noel until the shaking stopped. Slowly he lowered Noel to the floor, and then leaned against the cubicle wall for a moment while he slowed his breathing. Victor bent down over Noel. A quick search revealed a wallet, 9mm pistol with silencer fitted, a knife and a cell phone. Victor placed the cell phone and wallet in his pocket and then removed the gun holster and knife holder. The knife easily clipped to the back of his pants, next to the gun holster, hidden under his shirt. Victor positioned Noel’s body upright on the toilet, and then locked the door with the knife. The simple door lock changed from “free” to “occupied”.
At a table, Sally’s heart stopped and her amber eyes widened as Victor slowly came out of the restroom. Open mouthed she watched Victor as he walked back to his table. Sally swallowed hard. Noel did not make it. Her hand gently shook as it slid into her purse. Her eyes were glued on Victor as he took a pen from a passing waiter and scribbled a note on a napkin. The pistol’s feel in her hand failed to calm her nerves as Victor locked eyes with her, then slowly came over to her table. A shiver ran up her spine as she took the folded napkin from Victor.
The doorbell announced Victor and Laura’s departure when Sally opened the napkin. The words burned into her eyes. Walk away. Sally bit her lip as she dropped the napkin on the table and retrieved the last two text messages on her phone. For a moment she stared at the text messages, and then picked the napkin up again. A tear rolled down her cheek as she reread Victor’s note. Her brown ponytail bobbed as she shook her head. I can’t Victor. Her chair skidded on the floor as she jumped up and made for the door.
A busy street greeted Sally, and her eyes darted around. Her heart jumped when she glimpsed Victor and Laura duck into a side road some distance away. A cold chill ran down Sally’s back, and a lump formed in her throat. Victor’s reputation was legendary, and he was sure to set an ambush for her. Sally’s heart thumped as she rushed past the people on the sidewalk. Her well-endowed chest heaved and cold sweat ran down her attractive face when she reached the side street. Her keen eyes caught Victor as he slipped into a flea market at the end of the road. Adrenaline flooded her Scottish blood as her muscles exploded into action.
Sally’s lungs burned as she ran flat out past the confused people she shouldered out of the way. She missed the scared eyes that watched her from an open food court, where Laura hid in the crowd. Sally’s eyes darted nervously around where she stopped at the edge of the market. Slowly she pulled her silenced Ruger .380 pistol from her purse. The pistol shook gently as she held it against her stomach, hidden under her purse.
Her eyes scanned the people that wandered lazily from one seller to the next as they haggled over prices. Her mouth dried up. There was no turning back now. Sally took a deep breath, and then with her heart in her throat, entered the flea market. The calls of sellers as they tried to get her attention strained her nerves, while incense tingled her nose. Sally’s heart stopped and she froze. A lump formed in her throat while cold sweat ran down her face. Her eyes met Victor’s where he stood a few stalls away from her. Now Shoot him. For a moment she wide eyed stared at him, unable to move. Slowly Victor shook his head at her.
“Shit.” Sally cursed under her breath when Victor dashed into a side passage and quickly disappeared between a sea of large rugs that hung from thick ropes. Sally closed her eyes for a moment and clenched her jaw. I blew it. A tear formed in her left eye as she went after Victor. Her chance was slim, but she had no choice. Sally gaged at the putrid smell of rotten eggs that hung in the air, while coughing people quickly deserted their stalls and passed her. Pieces of a small glass vile, shattered on the ground, testified to Victor’s presence close by. Her left hand shook as it glided over soft lama hair, while she nervously pushed the large, heavy rugs one by one out of her way.
Sally jerked as the right shoulder of a jacket like Victor’s disappeared behind a rug. Now. The pistol rocked five times in her hand as it spewed out hot lead at Victor. For a moment, Sally stood shaking while she stared at the holes in the rug. Did I get him? Sally swallowed, or tried to, her mouth dry from fear. I have to check.
Her knees buckled as she slowly inched towards the rug. Sally gasped and froze. A pair of blue jeans and sneakers on the ground, hinted at a body behind the rug. Sally’s heart gave a slight victory jump. I got him. First time in the field and she got the legend. Now, a bullet in the back of the head for security. She took a deep breath and slowly pulled the rug away. Victor lay face down on the ground, three bullet holes in the back of his jacket.
A rug covered his shoulders and head as it fell over him, when he grabbed onto it for support when he dropped to the ground. Nervously, Sally’s eyes darted around for danger, and then she knelt down and ripped the rug off from Victor.
Sally’s throat closed up as dread nailed icy spikes in her spine. No. It cannot be. Her eyes stared disbelieving at the dressed up mannequin in front of her. Sally gasped as a sharp pain shot through her heart just before a strong hand choked her scream. It burned as the knife bit into her beating flesh, and then twisted. Tears formed in her eyes as her pistol slipped from her hand. Her legs gave in as the knife ripped out of her heart. Sally grabbed Victor’s hand as blood spurted from her heart and stained her shirt. For a moment neither moved.
“I don’t want to die alone.” The whispered words drained Sally’s strength and she dropped to the ground. Her fading eyes pleaded at Victor to stay.
“You should have left me alone.” Victor’s soft voice in Sally’s ears was a stark contrast to the sharp pain in her chest. Her hand fumbled inside her purse for her phone and she dropped it on the ground. Victor’s eyes narrowed as he picked her phone up, the second to last messages still displayed. Target located. Victor scrolled down to the last message. Eliminate target. You have one hour to comply.
“I am scared. Please hold me.” Sally forced the words out as darkness closed in around her. Victor knelt beside her and gently took her into his arms. With effort Sally wrapped her arms around his neck.
“Thank you.” Sally formed the words with her last breath and her head slumped against Victor’s shoulder. Victor’s body shook and tears rolled down his cheeks while he tightly held her body against his. His glistering eyes glanced at her cell phone. They will pay for what they made him do. Victor sat Sally upright in a sitting position against one of the poles that held up the stalls’ roof. His hand softly glided over her face, and closed her dead eyes to the world. Quickly he searched her body and found her wallet, pistol, and two spare clips.
Victor quickly took his jacket off the mannequin, then wrapped Sally’s stuff in it and walked away to find Laura. They had to get out of town before the bodies were discovered.
“You okay?” Laura gently placed her hand on Victor’s arm as he sat down next to her. Victor gave a slight nod as he took his backpack where Laura had placed it on the ground next to her chair.
“I saw her run by. Is she dead?” Laura’s voice faltered slightly.
“Yes, come we have to go.” Victor slowly stood up while Laura’s heart sank to her shoes. All the people Victor had killed since she met him were men, bad men, until now.
“Why? Why did you kill her?” Laura’s voice was filled with sadness.
“It was her or us Laura.” Victor sat down again.
“How do you know that? You don’t know her. Maybe she would have given up if you scared her.” Laura snapped, and her heart filled with emotions.
“No, she would not have.” Victor took out Sally’s phone and showed Laura the messages, while pain filled his heart. He was killing his family one by one. The people he trusted, who he would have died for. Did I become a monster myself? Laura’s soft touch on his hand brought his thoughts to her. Her gentle, sympathetic eyes tore at his heart.
“I am sorry. It must be hard for you, your friends. I know you did what you needed to do.”
Victor clenched his jaw as he stood up. Laura picked her backpack up and then joined him. He led her to a small office building labeled ‘Inca Railway’ a few blocks away. Laura went to sit down on a bench close by, while Victor approached the small window on the side of the building.
“Hi, two tickets to Machu Picchu please.”
“From Cusco?” A young Peru female clerk asked with a friendly smile.
“No, from Ollantaytambo.”
“Passports please.”
Victor took their fake passports they got in Mexico, out of his backpack and handed both to her. The clerk’s fingers whizzed over the keyboard as she entered the information into the system.
“One way or return?” She asked without looking up.
“Return, tomorrow evening, last train please.”
“That would be US$240 please.”
Victor handed over the money and waited for her to print the receipt. Her fingers dashed over the keyboard, and a printer next to her computer came alive. With a smile she handed the passports and tickets to Victor then commented. “Have a nice trip.”
“Thank you, have a nice day.”
“Are we going to see the ruins?” Laura voice was filled with excitement as she stood up when Victor joined her.
“Yes.” Victor smiled at her, glad that some of the somber clouds above Laura had evaporated. Gently he took her hand and walked to a row of taxies a short distance away.
“¿Habla Inglés?” Victor asked the first driver he reached, who shook his head.
“I speak English, where do you want to go?”
Victor turned to his right and eyed the man up and down. Average build, mid-50’s, with informal but clean clothes and dark black hair. The man stroked a short beard that failed to hide a deep scar on his chin.
“Ollantaytambo.” Victor replied.
“Two people?”
“Yes, how much?”
“US$100.”
Victor stood undecided for a moment. It was far more than the normal price, but haggling over a few pennies may cost them their lives. They needed to get out of Cusco as soon as possible. Where there was one assassin team, there may be two.
“Deal, name’s John, this is Sue.”
“Name’s Amado, good to meet you. Any luggage?”
“Just the backpacks, a day visit only.”
Amado’s eyes narrowed as he looked them up and down. Who goes to Machu Picchu with only two small backpacks? Tourists never failed to amaze him. Shrugging his shoulders, he walked towards his white Toyota Yaris and commented over his shoulder.
“Follow me please.”
Amado opened the back doors and politely waited for them to climb in before he closed the doors for them. He gave them a quick once over in the rear view mirror as he climbed into the driver’s seat, then pulled away.
“Music?” Amado reached over and turned the radio on without waiting for a reply. Pleasant local instrumental music filled the car, and Victor lay back into his seat and closed his eyes. It would take them one and a half hour to reach Ollantaytambo. Laura’s eyes drank in the scenery as they passed small towns and stalls along the way. In the distance, mountains with their tops hidden in rolling white dragon’s breath, waved at her. From the bottom of the mountains, lush green marched up and made their stand high up against the white.
Laura peppered Amado with questions about Peru, Machu Picchu and local customs. Their voices drifted away as Victor fell asleep. Laura was delighted to find that Amado was extremely wise and loved to talk, and she thoroughly enjoyed the ride.

Laura and the Jaguar Prophecy

Chapter 1

Laura closed her green eyes slowly and tilted her head backward. A half-full glass of red wine stood on an oak table next to her, long forgotten and not her taste. Soft rain joined the few freckles on her slender face and caressed her lips as a lover’s kiss. In response, Laura lightly moved the tip of her tongue eagerly across her lips, lifting nature’s nectar into her mouth.The taste was tantalizing. Still anchored in Cozumel, the rhythmic crashing of the waves against the ocean liner’s hull fifteen decks below calmed her thoughts. A refreshing September costal breeze gently played with Laura’s curly, long, red hair where she sat on the highest open deck of the ship.

It was past midnight, yet Laura had to get out of her cabin. Being claustrophobic, her mind clawed madly at the walls in the confined space. Thoughts of the past two weeks ran amok in her head: a job she loved for five years lost; a daring invitation from Nick, an online pen friend she had never met, to visit him in Spain; a promise to her roommate Suzy to find love; and accepting her parents’ brutal death. Fresh ocean air filled her lungs and dropped the chains around her mind. Carelessly, her thoughts jumped from one happy memory to the next, and then lingered over her vacation. She had a weeklong Caribbean cruise, already on its second day, followed by a week in Spain. At 25, this was her first big vacation, first time on an ocean liner, and the first time out of America, a three-for-one deal.

Mumbled voices to Laura’s left ripped her back to reality. Curiosity forced one of her eyes half open. A large swimming pool to her left ran up to the closed end of a horseshoe-shaped mahogany bar, where one could flirt with the bartender while in the pool. Disco lights above the bar danced together with the gibbous moon’s smile on the pool. Oak deckchairs and tables lined the swimming pool and complimented the darkly stained teak floor. Two muscular men sat at the bar on Laura’s side of the pool, beers in hand, having arrived while she was lost in thought. Laura brought her arm up and glanced at her watch. It was 1:15 am with six hours until the ship was to depart for Grand Cayman, its second stop after leaving Miami.

For a moment, Laura closed her eye. Undecided, she opened both eyes and slowly picked her passenger ID card off the table. For a second, she stared at the name on the card, Laura Electa Valencia. She gently bit her lower lip and thoughtfully flipped the card around in her hands as she scanned the pier below. A number of late-night bars and nightclubs lined the pier. Laura sighed. An overnight stop and I am on the ship—typical. Although, I still have six hours before the ship is to depart. I can still have some fun. Ha, me party? Who am I kidding? Laura giggled softly. If that party animal Suzy was here, she would drag me by my hair to the first bar. Okay, tomorrow, I promise I will ask the cute dive instructor’s name. Satisfied, Laura replaced the ID card and closed her eyes then folded her arms on her lap.

Three decks above Laura, a sniper dressed in black stealthily moved across the ship’s radar deck to its edge. A smile graced Laura’s lips as she peacefully drifted into sleep while the sniper carefully unslung a highly customized, silenced M110 sniper rifle and lay down. Thirty messengers of death waited to be guided through a night scope and laser sight in single or full auto mode. With a slow and steady heartbeat, the sniper scanned the bow of the ship and then chambered a round as his trained, merciless eyes located his target. Focused, he made one last adjustment to the night scope and then took aim.

A tiny red dot shot out into the darkness and hit Laura in the chest. Emotionless, the sniper released the safety catch then held a deep breath as he readied for the kill. Laura’s heart raced as she licked her lips and flirtatiously smiled at the instructor in her dreams while a red dot felt her ample left breast, playing with her nipple, erect and visible through her wet cotton blouse, before it savagely sought her heart.
“Evening.” Rough and deep, the voice ripped Laura out of her dream. Her bone-chilling scream pierced the air as she jumped out of her chair. Her heart pounded as she breathlessly brought her shaking hands to her mouth and stared white-faced at the large Russian in front of her. Defeated, the red dot disappeared into the darkness.

“Apologies if I startled you. Care for a drink and company?” The Russian’s voice was softer now as he held out a cocktail drink to her. Laura crossed her arms and breathed deeply as she tried to calm herself. Hesitantly, she looked past the Russian to his friend at the bar, who reassuringly raised a beer at her. Laura’s mouth went dry as she returned her gaze to the man in front of her. Dread ran its bone-chilling fingers along her back before it choked her. The Russian’s fake smile failed to hide the terror in his eyes that urged Laura to run and caused a cold shiver to run down her back.

“Nnnnooo…thank yyou. I amm just llleaving.” Laura’s pulse raced and she clenched her jaw. She stepped around the Russian as he placed the drinks down. Crippling pain ripped through Laura’s arm as the Russian grabbed her wrist. Tears formed in her eyes as she stared into eyes that hinted of the dead soul behind it. Mercilessly, he tightened his vice-like grip on her wrist while his eyes sucked the thought of screaming from her mind. Laura’s legs gave in, and he effortlessly held her up by one hand.

“Laura, give me the data, or you will not see the sun rise today.” The unemotional voice tore at Laura’s heart, just another target, just another job. Icy fingers crawled up Laura’s spine and paralyzed her with fear. Her lips trembled as she tried to speak and failed. Who is he? How does he know my name? What data? Laura flinched as something hard painfully rammed against her chest. Instinctively, she looked down and gasped. A small-caliber pistol was bruising her ribs. Goosebumps sprang up on Laura’s neck as a cold shiver ran through her body. I am going to die. Why me? Tears of sorrow freely rolled down her cheeks as she desperately sought help from the men at the bar. Despair sucked the hope out of her as both men slowly walked towards her, pistols in hand.

The Russian released her wrist and dropped her hard on her knees in front of him. Thank goodness he has some humanity in him. Maybe I can convince him… Pain shot through her body as a knee into her chest drove the air from her. Laura gasped as she painfully tried to breathe. All hope shattered as powerful fingers grabbed her throat and choked her. Laura’s feet dangled in the air as the Russian lifted her off the deck.
“Give me the data, Laura. This is your last chance.” Laura’s strength and life were quickly leaving her. The world around her spun as her vision faded and seconds became eternity. Coldhearted, the Russian lowered Laura to look into her fading eyes. She gave him no such pleasure and looked up into the blackness she would soon join. Out of the darkness, a light winked at her.

The bullet took the Russian in the back of his neck, exited through his windpipe, and missed Laura’s face by inches. The man’s grip on Laura faded, and they both fell hard to the deck. Darkness threatened to take Laura as soft rain smeared the crimson blood on her face.

“She shot Yegor! Kill her!” the bartender yelled. Laura fought to stay conscious and grabbed the rim of the table. With effort, she pulled herself half up and lay her dizzy head down on the table. Laura’s heart stopped as she looked past the drinks on the table. Red-faced, the bartender lifted his pistol and took aim. Laura’s eyes widened and her lips trembled as he expertly squeezed the trigger. The sound of hail falling on wood filled the air, and wood splinters flew in all directions as bullets ripped into the deck. Mercilessly, the men were gunned down in front of Laura. The bartender took a bullet in the right shoulder and back, while the second Russian took three in the back and one in the head. Both men fell mere steps from her. Mesmerized, Laura stared at the cocktail drink in front of her that glowed in the most beautiful way as a red dot danced in the glass.

“Uuuhhhh.” The bartender’s moan snapped Laura’s attention away, and her heart stopped. Satisfaction filled his face as he raised his pistol and aimed at Laura. He would be the one to score the kill shot even if it was the last thing he did. Laura jerked as multiple bullets slammed into him and instantly ripped his life away.
Laura shuddered and tears ran down her cheeks as the red dot played with her lips. For an agonizing second, she helplessly waited for the bullet to end the nightmare and then collapsed onto the deck. As her head cleared the table, the glass exploded and vodka mixed with drugs stained the tablecloth. A blinding flash of pain went through Laura’s mind as she hit the deck hard with her head. Hopelessly, Laura clung to consciousness as she fought the darkness and lost. The red dot hungrily searched for Laura, hidden behind the table. Failing to find a clear shot, it retreated.

As the sniper made his way down from the radar deck, Laura slowly came to and was greeted by a blinding headache. The rain had stopped, and if it was not for being soaking wet and miserably cold, she would not have even bothered to open her eyes. Please let this be a dream. Searing pain flashed through her head as she opened her eyes and quickly closed them again. Her left temple had a heartbeat of its own, and the world around her started to spin.
Slosh, slosh, slosh.
A hollow pit formed in Laura’s stomach as footsteps on the wet deck approached her. Get up, Laura. Get up, run, run. Laura’s exhausted body ignored her mind. She clenched her jaw and swallowed as the person came closer and closer. Who is it? Is it the sniper coming to finish me off? Her lips trembled as the footsteps stopped at each of the dead men. Her mouth went dry. Is he making sure they are all dead? What will he do when he finds me alive? Will he cut my throat with a knife or shoot me in the...
Slosh.
The sound next to her stopped her thoughts while dread clawed up her spine. Futilely, she tried to stop her body from shaking.
“Ppplease don’t kill mmmee,” Laura whispered as someone knelt next to her. A warm hand gently touched her right shoulder.
“Don’t be afraid. You are safe now.” Laura’s heart rejoiced as the soft and confident voice flowed over her and calmed her nerves. Warmth chased the cold out of her body when a jacket was placed over her. Laura gasped when powerful arms lifted her carefully up and carried her away from the dead men she did not wish to see. The man’s warm and well-toned body pressed against hers and assured her mind of his capability to protect her.
Eagerly, she opened her eyes and looked thankfully up at her rescuer. Piercing, brilliant blue eyes met her gaze and drew her in. Time waited for them as their souls danced and flirted. Then, shock and emotion overwhelmed Laura, and she threw her arms around his neck and tightly held on. Her body shook as the rivers of emotion poured out of her, and as the world around her started to spin, she lay her head on his shoulder. Laura did not mind the darkness that clawed its way over her consciousness. She felt safe in his—safe for the first time in years.
“Are you an angel?” Laura whispered before fainting.

Chapter 2

In a room inside the ocean liner, Victor turned Laura’s passenger ID card around in his hands. His eyes admired her as she peacefully dreamed in his bed. He had dried her off with towels as best he could before tucking her in, damp clothes and all. His five foot seven inch solid frame shook as he laughed. Am I an angel? Far from.
Knock knock.
Victor glanced at Laura one last time then walked over, opened the door a fraction, and slipped out. A stocky man dressed in a gray suit greeted him in the hallway.
“I’m Special Agent Josh Williams from Homeland Security.” Josh’s outstretched hand hung in the air with his words. Victor’s large eyes and open mouth were his only greeting.
“What are you doing here?”
Josh’s hazel eyes narrowed at the question.
“What am I doing here? Have we met?”
“No. I meant Homeland Security.” Victor’s cold voice failed to convince Josh, who studied him for a moment more with his hand on his chin.
“My partner, Agent Parker Thompson, and I were with the Mexican government’s help, investigating a cross-border case. Due to the ship being registered in Miami and us being close by, the Mexican government asked us to take over the case.”
“ID.” Victor’s voice was stern.
“What?”
“Your FBI ID.”
Josh gritted his teeth and then reluctantly entertained Victor.
“Name’s Victor. Here’s the girl’s passenger ID card. She is asleep now. I’ll be happy to answer your questions while she sleeps.” Victor thrust the card into Josh’s hands.
“I have been told the ship’s doctor already made a visit and she is fine.” Josh slowly placed the card in his pocket.
“Correct.”
“Well, then I am questioning her now.” Josh more commanded than said and made for the door.
“No can do. Doctor’s orders. She has to rest.” Swiftly, Victor slid in front of Josh and blocked the door. Josh’s eyebrows dropped as he locked eyes with Victor for a moment.
“Very well. Let’s hear your story. Follow me.” Josh spun around and then briskly walked away. Victor followed Josh to an empty corner table in one of the staff’s dining rooms. A collapsible aluminum table and eight plastic chairs decorated the room. Victor and Josh sat down on opposite sides of the table. Slowly, Victor formed a steeple with his hands. Josh’s eyebrows dropped as he analyzed Victor for a moment, then swallowed. Strange. This man is not intimidated by being questioned by me; that is a first.
“Where are you from?” Josh pulled out a black Aspinal leather mini notebook from his jacket pocket while he waited for an answer.
“South Africa.” Victor’s taut voice hinted of repressed anger.
“You live there now?”
“No.”
Josh clenched his fists as he took a deep breath. Flames of anger started to burn in him. He had a long week behind him and was in no mood for Victor’s unasked-for arrogance.
“Then where?”
“Nowhere. I am backpacking the world.” Victor’s voice taunted Josh as much as his answer.
“You have your passport with you?”
“Yes.” Victor slowly took his passport out, having anticipated it would be asked for.
“What work are you currently doing?” Josh intently studied Victor’s passport. Victor Ramon Adalhard. Josh looked up when Victor did not reply.
“Hunting hot girls.” Victor smiled then leaned back in his chair, which made Josh turn light red.
“Are you trying to be funny?” Josh snapped as he glared at Victor, who leaned forward in his chair again.
“Look, Josh. I just told you I am backpacking. And if you really studied my passport, you would have seen that the stamps show I have been travelling for eight months now through a number of countries. So I probably have no job, and even if I did, what does it have to do with this case?”
Josh’s face turned a darker red, and he gritted his teeth. Veins formed mountain ridges on his face, but he held his composure.
“Fine. Tell me what happened.” Josh forced every word slowly past his teeth.
“It was late, and I was lonely. So I went hunting for a hot girl. I came on the deck, and there was one just lying around. Feeling like a caveman, I dragged her back to my dungeon.” Victor answered with a straight face and then sat back in his chair.
The table bounced as Josh, crimson-faced, slammed his fist on it and then spat out. “Are you trying to piss me off?”
“Special Agent Williams, sir, there is a man who urgently wants to speak to the investigator in charge.” A wide-eyed Mexican police officer stood in the doorway, too afraid to enter. Josh righted his jacket and then took a deep breath.
“What is it about?”
“It is a passenger, sir. He claims he saw the whole thing happen. He says he can identify the shooter.”
“Take me to him. Mr Adalhard, wait here,” Josh barked as he stood up to follow the officer.
“No, I will be in my room,” Victor defiantly answered and stood up. White-knuckled, Josh glared through narrowed, flame-spitting eyes as Victor calmly walked out of the room. Josh used every grain of control not to explode and cause a scene. He took a second deep breath, calmed himself, and then turned to the officer.
“Take me to the witness.”
“Yes, sir. Follow me.”

Half an hour later, Josh knocked on Victor’s cabin door, having completed his questioning of the passenger who witnessed the killing, a drunk nut who still smelled of booze and claimed aliens came down and killed the men with red lasers. The door lock disengaging, pulled his attention to the door.
“Oh, it’s you. Found your killer?” Victor’s words dripped with sarcasm, and Josh’s face turned blood red as he clenched his fists and bit his teeth. With effort, he slowed his breathing and took a deep breath before he responded.
“Mr Adalhard, you and I have a real problem with each other.”
“Problem is all you.” The remark was snappy, and laced with disgust.
“Step outside now.” Josh snarled.
“12 August, five years ago, Brooklyn Bridge, 2 am.”
Josh’s blood evaporated from his face and left it snow white, while his lips trembled. His shoulder hung as he dry mouthed stared at Victor. For a moment, words failed Josh, and then slowly he turned his gaze to his shoes, where his heart lay.
“That was an accident.” Josh’s soft voice was filled with regret.
“You shot a young unarmed girl.” Victor snapped while his eyes reflected the rage that was held back.
“I was drunk. My wife just left me. I was suicidal. I thought she was trying to attack me.” Josh pleaded.
“She came to you, an officer in a marked car for help, and you shot her.” Anger spiralled through Victor. Every muscle in his body wanted to snap Josh’s neck.
“She walked into the car, and when I got out, she had a knife, and I must have thought she came at me and reacted.” Josh whimpered, and cringed under Victor’s eyes and his own condemnation of his actions that night.
“A knife she pulled out of her gut, having been stabbed several times with it, after she was raped. She pleaded for help and stumbled. Then you shot her; a witness saw it.” Victor growled through his teeth with a voice that hinted of a dark past.
“I was drunk.” Josh yelled, and then continued in a softer voice. “And I am paying the price every day for my mistake.”
“You should have gotten the chair. I have no idea how you managed to stay in the force. Probably because the witness was a beggar. Even in South Africa, your case made headlines. Now, Laura is resting and I am pissed off. You can question her when she wakes up, and then I will talk to you.” Victor’s hate filled voice tore at Josh’s emotions.
“I will be outside.” Josh’s heart plummeted to his shoes when Victor slammed the door in his face. He leaned with his palms against the wall while his head hung. Desperately he tried to push the memories back into the dark pit he stored them. That night broke him. At the trail, he just let his lawyer handle everything. Josh could not even get himself so far to read the case file of the evidence collected against him. He was fully prepared for jail, and actually welcomed it, yet the charges were dropped for lack of evidence.
Inside the room, Victor placed his back against the door, and slowly slid down to the floor. A sea of anger washed over him as he dropped his head in his hands. His body rocked as tears streamed down his face, while sorrow hugged his heart as memories that haunted his dreams filled his mind. The only women he ever loved, raped and slain in front of him, while he was helplessly forced to watch. That night sealed his heart, and set him on a different path. Slowly, he looked up at Laura, still peacefully asleep. Now, fate brought you to me. And mercilessly you are unknowingly hammering down every wall I put around my heart. Victor wiped the tears from his eyes and took a deep breath. ‘Can I love again?’

Four hours after passing out, Laura slowly came to. Her headache had diminished to a dull manageable ache. Soft expensive silk sheets caressed her body, pressed down by the weight of a thick down feather duvet. Where am I? Is it safe to open my eyes? Laura held her breath as she carefully listened for any indication she was not alone. Her slightly racing heartbeat was her only reward. Lying on her left side, Laura slowly opened her eyes and curiously took in the room. A closed door was in front of her, possibly leading out of the room. The bathroom was towards her feet, its door open. A pinewood study desk and matching chair were next to the bathroom door. This is not my room. This room is larger and classier than mine, probably one of the First Class rooms. Whose room am I in?
“Morning sleepy head.”
Laura gasped and jumped out of bed, then bolted for the door.
“Crap.” Laura uttered as she went down face first, her left foot entangled in the bedding. The soft plush gray carpet broke her fall, and only her pride was bruised.
“Easy there tiger.” A man laughed as he knelt beside her. The mocking voice infuriated Laura, and she snapped her head up to glare at the man. Brilliant blue eyes met hers and washed away all anger. His smile was contagious, and warmth flowed through her body as she smiled back. A lock of hair fell over her eyes, and she clumsily blew it out of the way. Embarrassingly, it fell down again, and annoyingly blocked her view of the man’s athletic body. Laura gasped as he effortlessly picked her up by the hips and placed her on the edge of the bed, then sat down next to her.
Distracted, Laura licked her lips while her eyes eagerly caressed his body. Crew cut dark blond hair, well groomed, clean-shaven, early 30s, and come here sparkling blue eyes. He had on running shoes, with black tracksuit pants and an UnderArmour short sleeve compression T-shirt that strained to contain his flawlessly sculpted muscles. The perfect ancient Greek Spartan warrior’s body, ready for some action.
“Well, shall we do this?”
Laura’s jaw dropped, and the fuse to her memory banks blew and left her with a response. Shit. The man is attractive, but this is moving a bit fast for me. I need to get out of here. Oh no, he is getting up and walking to the door. Is he going to lock it so I cannot escape?
“Oh, by the way, I am Victor.”
“Do what?” Laura blurted out, and immediately regretted the question. Victor stopped and slowly looked over his shoulder. His eyes flirtatiously flowed warmly over her curves. 5ft 4 inches, slender petite build with soft green eyes, long curly red hair, and ample breasts; B+ cup Victor guessed. Laura shifted uneasily as her body responded sensually to his caressing eyes. Embarrassed, she folded her arms over her hard and erect nipples, and tried to still the butterflies in her stomach.
“Your talk with the police. An agent is outside the door waiting for you to wake up.” Victor stepped forward and pulled the door open.
“She’s awake.” Victor matter of fact stated as he poked his head into the hallway. Leaving the door half-open, he walked over to a small bar fridge next to the bed. He took out an orange juice, then teasingly looked at Laura and winked. A jolt of excitement surged through Laura, and her face reddened.
“Want something to cool you down?” Victor smiled. Laura grabbed a pillow and playfully threw it at him just as Special Agent Josh stepped into the room.
“Water will be fine, thanks.” Laura’s face was crimson as she looked at the floor.
“Here you go.” Victor’s voice pulled her eyes up at him, and a shockwave went through her body as he winked at her just when she took the bottle. Laura almost dropped the water, and nervously she swallowed. What am I going to do? This man is just too much for me. I have not had anyone flirt with me in years. What is wrong with me? He infuriates me and all I want to do is kiss him.
“I’m Special Agent Josh Williams from Homeland Security.”
“Yes.” Laura blurted out while her mind milled over the question if Victor can kiss her. Josh frowned, and then eyed Laura up and down for a moment.
“Are you okay? I need to ask you some questions about the incident on the deck.”
“Mmmm.” Laura responded while she took a sip of water, more for distraction than thirst. Josh held out his hand to Laura, who ignored it. Questioning she looked at him. I do not trust this man. Is he really FBI? What is he doing in Mexico? O, crap, if he is not real, then Victor is a lie as well. Damn Laura, you have had your emotions cloud your head. People died and all you think about is kissing a stranger, get a hold of yourself.
“Can I see your ID?” Laura’s voice was firm. Annoyed, Josh shot a glance at Victor, who just smiled. Slowly, Josh withdrew his hand and sat down at the end of the bed. He nodded, then took out his ID and held it out to Laura. Relief filled Laura as she looked at the picture ID and badge.
“Thank you.” Laura’s soft voice did not hide her embarrassment. Josh replaced his ID before he removed a small digital voice recorder from his right jacket pocket. He activated it and placed it next to Laura on the bed, then removed his notebook and pen from the same pocket before he started.
“Okay, let’s start at the beginning. Tell me all that happened on the deck and what they wanted.”
Laura told Josh everything she could remember, from the time she left her room until the time she woke up in Victor’s room. For three hours, Josh followed her story while he periodically asked her background questions.
“Who were they, Special Agent Williams?” Laura curiously asked as Josh reached for his voice recorder.
“They were all professional hitmen. Very dangerous and immoral men who did some evil acts.” Josh intently noted Laura’s reaction, and his eyebrows plunged into a frown when Laura’s eyes widened and her face went white.
“All of them?” Laura whispered, then took a pillow and hugged it tightly against her chest when Josh slowly nodded.
“The sniper, he missed me, right?” Laura asked confused and Josh gently bit his lip in thought, the question puzzled him as well.
“Men like that do not miss.” His soft voice did not lessen the blow of his words. Josh let his words sink in for a moment, then continued sternly. “You have powerful enemies that want you dead Miss Valencia. You really have no idea as to why? Or what data they seek?” Open-mouthed Laura shook her head.
“You have no idea what the data could be, or what it could be stored on then?” Josh tried a different angle of questioning. Again, Laura shook her head, and hugged the pillow tighter. Josh’s eyes narrowed as he analyzed Laura’s every movement. 35 years of experience on the force, told him she was hiding something, but what?
“Are you sure you have no idea why they came to you, or what data they are looking for?”
“No. I already told you several times. I do not know what they were looking for.” Laura snapped. Irritated and exhausted, she stood up and walked to the door as she continued. “Can we finish this at a later stage? I would really like to take a bath and freshen up.”
“Very well Miss Valencia. However, you will need to use this room’s bathroom. We are currently searching your room.” Laura spun around with icy eyes as anger raged through her body.
“How dare you search my room without my permission?” Laura spat out. Disgust ripped at her gut.
Slowly, Josh stood up and walked over to Laura. His eyes accepted her stare challenge as he commented. “Miss Valencia, you are a suspect in a multiple murder case. I can arrest you now if I like.” Laura refused to back down and held Josh’s stare for a few seconds.
“Fine.” Laura snapped, and then stormed over to the bathroom. Furiously she tried to slam the door shut, but lost her grip on the doorknob and stumbled into the bathroom.
“Shit.” Laura uttered as she tripped over the toilet and landed in the bathtub.
“Josh will send up some of your clothes.” Victor laughed as he closed the bathroom door, and then turned to Josh. For a moment, Josh stared speechless at the bathroom door, then gave Victor an angry look as he nodded his agreement. Who does he think he is, judging me? He was not there. He does not see her face in his dreams. Let it go Josh. It is in the past. Focus on the case or you will have another breakdown. Assassination on an ocean liner. I knew it was going to be a mess. If the Mexicans do not want a case, you know there is trouble.
“Don’t you have somewhere to be, Josh?” Victor asked mockingly.
“I am not done questioning you, Mr. Adalhard.” Josh’s teeth sliced his words up as he forced them out. Slowly Josh turned then walked white knuckled out of the room. For a moment, Victor listened as Laura filled the bath, then walked to the door. He needed to think away from her. Years in the field as a private security operative for elite clients, in extremely hostile environments, told him Laura was at the center of something larger than she realized.